


The End.  (Fade to Black)

by kelhome



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Series Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23599156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelhome/pseuds/kelhome
Summary: Sam and Dean deal with God, once and for all.  Their hunting lives come to an end.  For real, this time.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	The End.  (Fade to Black)

Three weeks of this. Three weeks of fleeing or chasing, Dean couldn’t really say. But Chuck kept creating monster mash parties and Sam kept tracking them with his whatever pendant thing from Rowena’s stash, and they kept not using the kid, who could’ve waved his hand, glowed up his eyes and finished these fucking brutality Olympics in about 10 seconds.  
But Sam and Cas kept telling him, “If we use Jack, Chuck will know he’s back and we lose our advantage.”  
Oh, okay. _Our advantage can’t be used, even though it’s a pretty goddamn big advantage, so we’ll just keep doing these non-stop-nearly-impossibly-death-defying hunts, and save up that ‘big advantage.’_  
Supposedly, Cas and Jack were doing some recon of their own, to try and hatch some workable plan with Billie that didn’t create a dead world if God were taken off the board. It had been about ten days since they’d heard anything from them.  
Dean fought the need to close his eyes, just for five frickin’ seconds, which, okay, bad idea seeing as he was aiming Baby down the two-lane at about 70 mph, so he glanced to his right, as always, to get some equilibrium from the sight of Sam next to him. The laptop was open, and Sam was typing something. More to keep himself awake than actually caring what Sam was doing, Dean asked, “What you got?”  
Sam sighed, didn’t look up. “A crick in my neck and some pretty serious b.o. You?”  
Dean huffed out a chuckle. “Same. Plus a blister on my trigger finger and what I’m pretty sure is a sprained ankle.”  
Sam looked over at him. “Dean. I told you to wrap that ankle. I also told you I’d drive so you could elevate it…”  
Dean sighed. “Yeah, yeah. Just like I told you to put a sling on that shoulder and ice on the crack in your skull from being tossed into that cement wall, what, three days ago?”  
Sam laughed suddenly. “We’re so tough.”  
Dean smiled. “One thing the Winchesters know how to do is cowboy up!”  
Sam nodded. “Yeah.” He closed the laptop, rested his head against the seat and looked out the window.  
Dean said, “20 miles to Big Piney, Wyoming.”  
Sam watched the scrubby hills around them.  
Dean noted the cows milling in a field on their right. “Cows, man. Just stand around a field all day and eat. What a life.”  
Sam said, “We would’ve been awesome cowboys.”  
Dean considered. “You think?”  
“Yeah. Riding horses over the range, sleeping outside, making cook fires.”  
“You do know that it isn’t 1870, right? I doubt they sleep outside and make ‘cook fires,’ Zane Grey. More like, RV’s and semi-trucks. But still, lots of time on the road, I guess. Which, you know, we’re more than used to.”  
Sam nodded. “Yeah. But, maybe Colorado? Or Texas? Wyoming is pretty desolate. It feels like only about 12 people actually live here.”  
“Let’s do Texas. Get a spread, build a bunkhouse for all the hunters who need a place to chill out between jobs.”  
“Yeah.”  
The quiet fell between them and Dean pictured it for a while. Low hills, open fields, pine trees in the distance. A sturdy house, maybe a river nearby where they could fish and relax. Living in the bunker was okay, but being underground all the time only reinforced the fact that they were basically in danger 24/7. What would it be like to have sunlight and screen doors and a dusty breeze every morning while you drank your coffee on the porch?  
Sam pulled the pendant from his pocket. A white-blue light was pulsing weakly. Sam sighed. “Shit. He’s closer than Big Piney.”  
Dean looked out on the sunny day. “Don’t suppose we’ll get a chance to sleep for like, five minutes, before we’re knee deep in ghouls or vamps or some shit, will we?”  
Sam kept his gaze out the window. “Dean. We can’t do this much longer. We barely made it out of Louisiana alive. We should talk about the offer he made.”  
Dean’s exhaustion fled. Anger and frustration filled him. “Sam, no. If you tell me one more time that you sacrificing yourself is worth the end of monsters, then save it. Cause I’ll tell you the same damn thing, which is to take that plan and shove it, and then we’ll be right back where we started.”  
Sam’s body tightened up. Dean didn’t even have to look at him to feel it. He clearly wanted another round of their ‘Let me die so you and the planet can live’ argument. But, Dean was too tired. “Look. First of all, can we even trust what Chuck is promising? One of us kills the other and he takes all the monsters from earth? Really? And second, both of us dying nullifies the deal? I mean, all this time, we’ve resisted the roles all the angels and demons tried their damnedest to get us to play. And now, now you want to play along? No. Just…no, Sam.”  
Sam shook his head. “Dean, if one of us dies in one these hunts, that’s it. We go to the empty and it’s over. But, if we take Chuck’s offer, I go to heaven, and so do you, eventually. He’ll nullify the threat of going to the empty. Isn’t that worth it?”  
Dean hated this conversation. They’d had it for a month, in various degrees of volume and variety, and still, he resisted Chuck’s great deal. He couldn’t articulate why other than to say, over and over, that all his instincts, which had gotten him this far, told him to resist it.  
“Sam, it’s not right. Something about it, can’t you feel it? It’s too easy. It’s too simple. Chuck wants us to kill each other, for his fucking entertainment. There’s something off. I may not be able to say exactly what it is, but, it’s off.”  
Sam grit his teeth. “Okay, yes. It’s for his entertainment. So what? If he does what he’s offered, we can rid the world of monsters! He can actually do that. Dean, that’s everything we’ve fought for since we could walk and aim a gun. Isn’t that worth it?”  
Dean reached for his patience. “Is it worth me putting a bullet in your head? Or, you putting one in mine? You tell me, Sam. Is entertaining God, Chuck, whatever, worth that? What will it do to my soul, or to yours? How do we know that doesn’t buy us a ticket to hell, hmm? I’ll take the empty over hell, even with Rowena as queen. Because I’ve been to hell, goddamn it, and I’m not going back.”  
Sam nodded. “I know. I. I don’t want to go back, either. I mean, I really don’t. But, this trying to stay one step ahead of God, who is fucking all-seeing and all-knowing, is not sustainable. We will get killed, and probably soon. And, being brought back to life is no longer an option, as Billie has told us. So, you tell me what we should do? Just die in some nest of God-charged werewolves and have it mean nothing?”  
Dean’s anger surged. “Remember when I wanted to go into the Malick Box? It was the only way I could protect the world from Michael? All I’d have to do is live, forever, in a box on the bottom of the ocean. I accepted that. I was ready for that. And, if I recall, somebody disagreed with me. _Somebody_ punched me out for not being willing to fight, to find another solution. Because he believed in us, he said. He believed we would find a better way, if we just kept fighting. Do you remember that, Sam? Or, was that just bullshit you were spewing?”  
Sam unclenched his jaw and took a couple calming breaths. “No. No, it wasn’t just bullshit.”  
Dean nodded. “And we found another way. Well, a concussion and Jack’s powers found another way, but you get my point.”  
“Yeah.”  
“We go down swinging, Sammy. We don’t play their game. We play ours. Same as always.”  
“Butch and Sundance.”  
“Butch and Sundance.”

Ten minutes later, the car quit. The sudden cloud cover and drop in temperature gave another hint. Dean steered her to the shoulder of the road. “If some sleepy trucker clips my Baby as he drives by…”  
Sam pointed straight ahead. “We’ve got bigger problems, Dean.”  
Coming down the road were about 100 what-looked-like people, but who knows what the hell they were? Dean opened the car door. “Let’s go.”  
They met at the trunk. Dean picked up the grenade launcher. “Let’s see how mortal these things are, first.” He climbed up on the front hood and stood up. His left foot pressed a small dent into the dusty hood. “Sorry, Baby. I’ll make it up to you.” He aimed at the approaching group, and let the grenade fly.  
It blasted an explosion right into the middle of the troupe. They scattered. All was still for a long minute, then, one by one, even the ones now missing limbs, and sporting gaping wounds in their heads and torsos, started moving again. The ones that could walk, came forward. The ones that couldn’t, crawled.  
Sam sighed. “I’ll get the holy water and Ruby’s knife, you get the silver witch-killing bullets and we’ll see what works?”  
Dean nodded. “Yeah. But there’s one freak you forgot.” Dean sliced his palm. The mangled group was about 30 feet away now. Dean painted the angel-banishing symbol in his dripping blood right on the side of the Impala. He slammed his hand into it, and the group disappeared in a white-hot flash.  
Sam said, “Angels? Huh. Did not see that coming.”  
“Easiest for Chuck to control. They’re his oldest creation, right?”  
Sam looked over, smiled his rare delighted-little-boy smile. “Nice work.”  
Dean shrugged. “I need some sleep, like, yesterday. Let’s see if banishing Chuck’s little war game helps the car live again.”  
Sam clapped him on the shoulder. “Sounds good.”  
And, just like that, Dean’s hopelessness weakened just enough to let him actually smile in return.

They both slept for 12 hours. When Dean opened his eyes, Jack sat on Sam’s bed, and Cas on his. Sam stirred when Cas said, “Hello, Dean.”  
Dean said, “Did you bring coffee?”  
Jack held up a Dunkin Donuts bag. “And a variety of doughnuts.”  
Dean rubbed his hands over his face, told himself to wake up. “Okay, you can stay.”  
Sam rolled over and got up. He pat Jack on the back and said, “Morning,” then disappeared into the bathroom.  
The shower came on and Dean gestured for the bag. “Gimme.”  
By the time he’d started on his second cup of coffee, he felt more human. Sam came out of the bathroom in a towel, and sat on his bed. Jack handed him his coffee, full of cream and sugar, with a smile. “Good morning, Sam.”  
Sam sipped. “Tastes good. How are you guys?”  
Cas said, “We believe we have something that can be useful.”  
Dean bit into a Boston Cream. “Useful how?”  
Jack stood up, retrieved the backpack he’d placed on their dinette table. “It’s a kind of cosmic neutralizer.”  
Sam also got up, went to his duffle to pull out some clothes. “A what?”  
Cas said, “Billie told us about some ancient texts, written on animal skin – it turned out to be a dinosaur, which, I suppose contradicts human’s timeline that ---”  
Dean sipped more coffee, gave Cas the _get on with it_ hand roll.  
“Yes. Well. The text appears, if my hyroglyphics vocabulary is reliable, to show God being put to sleep by the fruit of a tree growing in the Oracle.”  
Sam and Dean looked at him with blank expressions.  
Cas seemed disappointed. “The Oracle? The garden of knowledge?”  
Sam’s eyebrows went up. Dean sipped more coffee. Jack took another doughnut out of the Dunkin bag.  
Cas threw up his hands. “Jack I can understand, he’s only three. But, you two have never heard of the Oracle?”  
Sam sighed. “Why don’t you just explain what it is, and whether or not we can get there.”  
“I believe the Oracle was a place on earth, and no, I don’t believe it still exists.”  
Sam shook his head and pulled on some jeans.  
Dean rolled his eyes and took another too-large bite from his doughnut.  
“Neither of you seem to welcome this news with the enthusiasm I’d predicted.”  
Dean rubbed his face. “Cas. What good does some ancient cartoon do us if we can’t even get to this place or this fruit of the tree of whatever? I still think we get Chuck in front of Jack and let Jack just do his thing.”  
Sam pulled on a hoodie. “We still don’t know what it will do to Jack if he tries to off Chuck. There’s got to be some kind of cosmic payment. And where is Billie, anyway? We’ve tried summoning her and – nothing. It feels like we just keep spinning our wheels. Like, the only thing we can do is not die while Chuck recruits or creates more and more monsters to kill us.”  
Jack holds up what looks like an apple. “Pomegranate.”  
Sam tilts his head. “Huh?”  
Cas smiles. “We believe, based on the hieroglyphic, that Amara did something to the fruit as a sort of prank on her brother. We don’t think Chuck is aware.”  
Jack tossed the pomegranate to Sam, who caught it easily. “We think, and Billie agrees, if we can get him to sleep, or at least that’s what the picture painting implies, I can get to him without harm to myself.”  
Sam nodded. “If it’s the same fruit.”  
Dean said, “And, if it still puts him to sleep.”  
Jack smiled and nodded. “Exactly.”  
Dean finished his donut. “Great. So, somehow, we’ve got to get God to eat a pomegranate.”  
Sam laughed. “Which should be super easy.”  
Dean said, “I remember when hunting was weapons and stealth and training.”  
A heaviness of air punched through the room.  
Amara stood in the center of the room, her black dress still billowing from her journey. She looked right at Dean. “Hello, Dean.”  
Sam came close, tried to stand in front of Dean, who then pushed him back. They jostled for a moment.  
Amara rolled her eyes. “I’m not here to do anything harmful. I now try to only employ the darkness where I deem it the best option to cancel out something more hurtful. I’m here because I’ve been tracking Castiel’s grace. I visited the same shaman after you left. He told me about the glyph, and about your interpretation of it. I’m here to tell you, one, if you kill my brother, I’ll destroy the earth as you know it. And, two. How dumb are you to believe a pomegranate could do anything to God? It was a joke. Before Metatron left heaven, he liked to come down to earth and tell his stories to the ignorant masses. He had no patience for their signing and grunting, so he started drawing them, like picture books, to entertain them and himself. He thought it would be funny if I could give God a snack that made him comatose. Grimm used it recently, in Snow White or Sleeping Beauty or, I can’t recall the one.” She smiled. “There really are only seven stories in the world, being re-told again and again.”  
Cas looked grim and, honestly, embarrassed. “A fairy tale for the amusement of the Neanderthals. Of course. It did seem to strain credulity.”  
She turned to Jack. “I’m your great aunt, Amara.”  
Jack lifted his hand and waved. “Hello.”  
“How fascinating you are. Jack, is it?”  
Cas moved to stand in front of Jack. “We’ve heard your warning. You may depart, now.”  
Amara took a step closer to Jack and all three of the others moved closer to him.  
She looked between them. “As I said, ‘fascinating.’”  
Sam said, “Amara, can’t you talk to him? Get him to stop this crazy game he’s playing? He’s destroying worlds and killing so many people, it’s got to stop.”  
She smiled. “Does it? Why?”  
Dean gave her his most imploring look. “It’s not his right. He’s set this all up with the intention we were meant to figure things out on our own for millennia. He’s breaking his own rules with his interference.”  
She looked thoughtful. “Maybe. But, if he wrote the rules, can’t he change them? You boys do it often enough, don’t you?”  
Dean took a step closer. “This isn’t the balance he set up. He’s having a cosmic temper tantrum and people are dying.”  
She nodded. “Yes. It is annoying. Tedious, when he’s trying to be a destroyer, when he just isn't good at it. He's sloppy and heavy handed, don't you think? No finesse. Well. I’ll think about it. In the meantime, he may be irritating, but he is my only family. If you hurt him, I’ll not only pick up where he left off, but I’ll be worse. Much worse.”  
She disappeared. The air felt lighter in her absence.  
Sam sat on his bed. “Well, that was unexpected.”  
Jack held up the pomegranate. “So, I guess we don’t need this, right?”

Sam held the crystal pendant over the bowl. He measured the herbs, tipped in what was left of Gabriel’s vile of grace, and said the words: “Ostende mihi opus Deus.” _Show me God’s work_. The crystal vibrated, started to glimmer, and then a white-blue light shot up, creating an image of a town, a diner – Bill’s Café – road signs: Sycamore Street, Harmon Ave, and dark clouds over a group of “people” moving through the woods. The light flickered as the herbs burned off. Sam wrote down on his pad what he’d seen. He then went to the laptop to look for Bill’s Café on Sycamore Street. _Wichita Falls, Kansas._  
Dean came in with food and a six pack. He limped over to the table and started to unpack Chinese food.  
Sam wasn’t hungry, but knew he should eat. He held up the pad. “Wichita Falls.”  
Dean sighed. “Well, at least it’s close to home and we can do some fucking laundry.”  
Sam sat back. “Dean. We have to do something.”  
“We are doing something.”  
“No, I mean, we have to talk to Chuck.”  
“Jesus, Sammy. This again? We’ve been over it 100 times. I’m not taking Chuck’s suck-tastic deal and neither are you.”  
Sam nodded. “Yeah, okay. But, this non-stop fighting to stop his destruction is stupid. And it’s only gonna get worse. We have to talk to him.”  
“Talk to him with Jack hiding the closet, you mean? Finally smite his ass and get this over with? Cause I’m up for that.” He shoved a container at Sam. “Eat.”  
Sam pushed the food around.  
Dean lifted an eyebrow at him.  
Sam huffed, but took a bite.  
Dean nodded, sat down and started forking up the sesame beef.  
Sam tried again. “Dean. We can’t smite God. Amara already took that off the table.”  
“Then why are we bothering hiding Jack? He can go on God’s scavenger hunt of evil and be home in time for dinner.”  
Sam sighed. “Yeah. But, I think we should try to talk to Chuck, first. He hasn’t always been like this, you know?”  
Dean ate. “Yeah. I used to sort of like the guy.”  
“Maybe we can try to reach that part of him? Like, try to get him to calm down and stop all this destruction? Remind him what it’s like to create instead of destroy? Appeal to the better angel of his nature?”  
“I don’t know, Sammy. He seems pretty set on this whole ‘one of us kills the other’ as the only thing that will make him stop.”  
“I just, I starting thinking about Dad, you know? Like, he would get so stubborn and set on being a total asshole, because, the hunt! And Saving People! And I’m the Father, you will do as I say! But, when we talked to the dad in him, instead of the Marine, sometimes he’d get that look. That, ‘oh yeah, these are my boys,’ look. And, he’d smile, and let down a little. Let us sleep in or go to a movie with us.”  
Dean smiled softly. “Yeah. You played that card particularly well, with your ‘come on, dad, pleeaaase’ face.”  
“I’m just saying, Chuck started out as a dad, right? Like, he wanted a family, loved humans, even over his own children. Maybe there’s some of that still in him?”  
“Remind him he used to love humans, you mean?”  
Sam nodded. “It’s always worked for us. When nothing else works, play the family card. Lead with trust and love. With gratitude. It has a way of putting out the fire of temper and confusion and anger. Even when I was crazy on demon blood, you could always reach me when you reminded me we were family, you know?”  
“Yeah. It kinda worked on me when I was a demon, even if I did try to kill you with a hammer.”  
Sam snorted. “Well, I mean, I let you become a vamp when I was soulless.”  
Dean laughed. “And I wanted to rip your guts out when I was Michael.”  
Sam laughed. “I punched you out to remind you we were brothers, god damnit!”  
Dean laughed harder. “I locked you in Bobby’s panic room because we’re family, you fuck head!”  
Sam leaned back in his chair, laughing. “Family is always the answer!”  
Dean wiped tears of laughter. “You think we should call Chuck Grandpa or something?”  
“Uncle Chuck?”  
“Papa?”  
Sam pulled off a wobbly version of the Yentl soundtrack, “ _Papa can you hear me?_ ”  
Dean held up a hand, and said, through his guffaws, “Please don’t sing!”  
Sam nodded, bent over and dropped his fork.  
It took them 10 minutes to calm down and get serious enough to come up with a plan.

Cas, as expected, was not a fan of their plan. He said, “No. It’s too dangerous for Jack.”  
Jack, looking at Dean and ignoring Cas, said, “I’ll do it.”  
Cas turned to him, then back to Sam and Dean, who both stood with their arms folded against their chests.  
Sam said, “Cas, Jack will be safe. All he has to do is use his powers and then you can take him and hide him somewhere. We don’t need him once Chuck shows up. Just, to show some of our hand and get his attention. If he knows Jack is back, he’ll have to listen to us. I think he’s a little afraid of you, Jack.”  
Cas looked about as exasperated as his unexpressive face could look. “Once God knows Jack is alive, you think he’ll just sit down for a chat with the two of you instead of wreaking havoc on the world until he finds him?”  
Dean smiled insincerely. “He won’t be able to resist. We’re his favorites.”  
Cas rolled his eyes.  
Jack said, “Castiel, I’ve got to act sometime. This back and forth, with God killing people and creating more and more monsters, is not sustainable.”  
Sam threw up his arms. “That’s what _I_ said!”  
Jack said, “I can get to Wichita Falls now, extinguish the litter of werewolves, and be back here in a few minutes.”  
Dean eyes went wide. “Just, zoom, take them out, and zoom, back here? How strong are you, Jack?”  
Jack shrugged. “I’ve got my full powers, and perhaps a little extra, as Billie wanted me as strong as possible to confront my grandfather. Believe me, eating angel hearts is not pleasant. I only did it because she said it was the only way to get strong enough.”  
Sam exchanged a long look with Dean. _You ready for this?_  
Dean shrugged, _Ready as I ever am to talk with God._  
Sam nodded. To Jack he said, “Remember, as soon as you take care of the werewolves, get out of there. Go someplace God can’t find you. Cas, you have some ideas?”  
Cas nodded, “I thought to---”  
Dean held up his hand. “Nope, don’t want to know. If we don’t know, God can’t get it out of us.”  
Jack looked among all three of them. “So, should I? Right now?”  
Sam looked at him a moment, then walked over to embrace him. “Be careful. And, if something goes sideways, and Chuck freaks out or smites us or something, then, take care of each other, hmm? Try to help out the world as much as you can, and just, stay safe.”  
Jack nodded. “I will. Of course. But, you said you were just going to talk.”  
Sam shrugged, looked abashed. “If I don’t say a proper goodbye, and something happens, I’ll regret it. But, yeah, nothing’s going to happen.”  
Dean rolled his eyes, but he also went to Jack, gave him a brief hug. “Okay. Do what we taught you, kid. It’s good to know the Winchester legacy will live on if we don’t.”  
Cas sighed. “Why do so many of our plans end in trying to come up with last words?”  
Sam looked at Cas. “You take care of him, and of yourself, you hear?”  
Cas nodded. “Yes. I hear you. I don’t care for any of this, but perhaps Chuck, God, will surprise me and we’ll see you back at the bunker.” He embraced Sam. Then, turned to Dean, “You will not act recklessly, I’m sure. Remember that God is, ultimately, the author of creation. He wanted humans to be his greatest achievement. Convince him he was correct to put his faith in you and your fellow humans?”  
Dean hugged him. “Don’t worry. I’m a smooth talker. We’ll bring him around.” He stepped back. “Okay, enough with all this gooey stuff. Go get the job done. We’ll do the same. See you back at the bunker when it’s done.”  
Sam nodded. “Back at the bunker.”  
Jack nodded.  
They all stood looking at each other.  
Jack said, “I don’t want to go. It feels too much like goodbye. I don’t like that feeling. At all.”  
Dean smiled. “You know the job, Jack. We do what it takes. And so will you, no matter what happens to us. You got that?”  
Jack nodded. “Yes. I won’t let you down. I’ll remember everything you both taught me.”  
Cas put his hand on Jack’s shoulder, but kept his eyes on Sam and Dean. “Don’t be reckless. I’d like to keep this family together.”  
And they both disappeared.  
Dean turned to Sam. “Okay, let’s get ready for our little chit chat with God.”

Sam sat at the laptop in the map room. Dean came in from the kitchen, holding two open beers. “You ready?”  
Sam sat back, nodded. “Ready as I’m gonna get.”  
“Did you set it to music? Maybe ‘Father’ by Styx? That’s a good one.”  
Sam shook his head. “Dean, this isn’t MTV.”  
Dean shrugged, sipped his beer. “It’d be cool, though.”  
Sam said, “Okay, let’s see if the projector works.” He pointed to a black box on the table. “Turn that on, will you?”  
Dean leaned over, pushed the power button. A light came on inside the box. Before Sam could test it, a rumbling started in the walls.  
Dean grinned at him. “Jack must have finished that nest pretty quick. Someone's a touch upset, I think. Showtime.”  
Sam didn’t smile back. “Oh, God. What if---”  
Dean stood, guzzled what was left in the bottle and pitched it in the trash can next to the wall. It went in smoothly. “No turning back now, Sammy. Take down the warding.”  
Sam breathed in one big, calming breath, then nodded. He tossed some crystals in the bowl next to him, lit a match and said, “Auferam Sepem” as he tossed it in. A purple light surged, then went out. All the warding went purple, then faded to gray. “It’s down.”  
Before Dean could say anything, Chuck stood at the top of the stairs.  
“Well, you two managed to surprise me _again_. It’s really becoming an issue for me, because, on the one hand, I’m sorta proud, you know? My best antagonists keep coming up with new ways to, well, antagonize me.” He started down the steps. “But, on the other hand, it really tries my patience. Makes me want to just be DONE with this whole thing. Like, put this earth on the scrap heap and just start another one. Because, I’m kind of SICK of you two and your” – he made air quotes – “ingenuity.”  
He walked to the table where Sam sat, and Dean moved to stand at Sam’s shoulder. He smiled at God. “Hi Chuck. How ya been?”  
Chuck said, “Well, until about an hour ago, when I discovered my dead, more-powerful-than-any-being-has-a-right-to-be grandson was, um, what’s the word, _ALIVE_. Until then, I’d been sort of enjoying our classic hero’s journey together.”  
Sam watched him warily. “And, who’s the hero in our ‘journey together?’ You, I suppose?”  
Chuck looked at him, “Of course! I’m the perfect protagonist! I created you all out of the goodness of my heart – you know, if I had a heart. I gave you paradise, created love and laughter and music and let you run with it! I mean, come on! Beethoven! The Beatles! The Rocky Mountains at sunset! Sunset itself! Wow! What more could I have done? And, yet. You murder each other. You pollute the awesomeness of nature to the point that species are disappearing – do you know how long it took me to think up the spotted white owl? You people made _Britney Spears_ a millionaire. That’s all disappointing enough, right? But now? Now you threaten me? ME?! You think you can come up with a way to kill your creator? And, I’m supposed to what? Do nothing? Let it happen? What hero does that? No, the hero fights, the hero finds a way to triumph!”  
He rubbed his hands together. “I assume you’ve accepted my bargain, since you suddenly were visible to me again, and you used the kid to dispatch my latest monster master level? Which, by the way, amazing job on putting the kid back in play, because, really, I thought dead – by my own hand – really meant dead. You’ve learned a lot these past few years. More than any other of my Sam and Deans, the two of you have managed to surprise, delight and” – he lost his Chuck smile and became the scary deity – “INFURIATE me.” He stared at them until even Dean looked nervous. Which actually seemed to relieve his serious face. He smiled. “So, which of you is going to do the deed and save humanity? My money’s on Sam killing Dean, because, Dean, you have an amazingly resilient vein of self-sacrifice which I’m guessing couldn’t be dislodged by Sam’s equally amazing deep well of reasoning skills? Time's ticking, boys and my patience is JUST ABOUT UP!”  
Sam said, “Um, actually, we want to make a counter-proposal.”  
Chuck lost his thunderous attitude, looked confused. “Come again?”  
Dean cleared his throat, worked himself out of his momentary intimidation. “We want to offer a different deal.”  
Chuck pondered. “Uh huh. This feels like a classic delaying tactic. But, I’ll go along. What might this counter-offer consist of, exactly?”  
Sam pushed a button on his computer, and the white wall across the room became a screen for the projected images he’d compiled on his laptop. Beautiful landscapes of nature – ocean and mountain and farmland – flashed like a slide show on the wall. “We want to remind you about your amazing gifts - as a creator,” the slides changed, became people laughing and hugging and dancing – “and as a father.” They changed again to show acts of compassion, a smiling nurse with her hand on the cheek of an old woman in a hospital bed; a crying child being held by its father; a group helping a man trapped in a car. Then, it became live video: people in boats rescuing others trapped in a flood; a mother reading a book to children in a gymnasium of cots; an old man pressing his hand to the window where his wife lays in a bed, also pressing her hand to the window. Sam spoke softly as the images continued. “You made something so beautiful and amazing. And, you’re right, some of it is really messed up. We are not kind to each other, or ourselves, all the time. And, we haven’t been looking at the long view with the way we pollute to make things more convenient. But, Chuck. God. This world is an awesome place, full of good people who ARE doing what you created them to do. They’re being what you created them to be: kind, generous, loving, self-less. You made the biggest family in the universe. And, even if we fight each other, we still fight FOR each other.”  
Chuck watched the images. He didn’t say anything.  
Dean said, “Chuck, you used to want to help us. You saved us, over and over, helped us find our way back to doing better, being better. Hell, you became a nerdy guy named Chuck just so you could spend time learning more about humanity. So you could tell our story, write about our fight against the big bads in the world who were messing things up. Don’t let your disappointment that it isn’t perfect make you throw all of us away. That’s a dick move, man. You’re the dad. You’re supposed to find a way to love us, despite our being immature and stupid and not what you would have hoped. That’s what a good dad does, right? Uses patience and love to bring his kids to the next level. And, you know, I’m sorry we’ve made it hard on you, fucked some of it up.”  
Sam said, “Fucked a LOT of it up.”  
Dean nodded. “Yeah. Fucked _a lot_ of it up. But, we’re still trying. We're still fight to get it right.”  
Chuck didn’t give anything away. They couldn’t tell if they were reaching him at all. He just said, “What are you asking me to do? What is the ‘different deal’ you’re proposing?”  
Dean said, “Let us be. Let us keep figuring it out. Stop all this destruction and killing. If we’ve disappointed you, okay, I get it. But, give us a chance to fix it.”  
“Fix it? You think people on earth, this earth, are going to, what – suddenly stop killing my beautiful garden of a planet? You think they’re going to stop shooting each other and letting each other live in poverty and sickness and desolation? I never figured you boys for idiots, but that seems pretty close to the definition of idiocy.”  
Sam said, “But, if you cut it off now, you’ll never know. You’ll never get to see how the story plays out. You set it all in motion, gave us an amazing place to live, created air and water and food – and families to help us celebrate the good times, and get through when things got hard. You gave us brains and bodies and trusted us to work our way through it all. Humans are the most interesting story there is! How do all of us keep going? How do we find the good, find generosity and compassion and love, when monsters and demons and darkness continually threaten us? Isn’t that a story worth following? Whatever this is you’re doing now, killing worlds, killing people, it doesn’t end a story. It burns the book before we can learn the ending.”  
Chuck nodded. He paced slowly in front of the table.  
Sam and Dean didn’t dare to look at each other. They both watched Chuck.  
After some time, the pacing stopped and Chuck turned toward them. “Let’s say I’m willing to re-write my ending. Just for discussion’s sake, say I’m willing to rip up the darker ending I’m working off of. What ending are you proposing?”  
Sam shrugged, “Well, my ending will be different from yours, of course. But, you know, I’d probably vanquish the monsters. Make the struggle against them all these years finally pay off.”  
Dean looked at him. “Huh. That’d be sweet.”  
Sam almost smiled. “Right? And, um, maybe restore heaven, let angels regenerate or whatever it is they do, let people get back in based on, you know, being a good person? Because heaven was a great idea, Chuck. A great way to reward a life well-lived.”  
Chuck thought about it. “Yeah, but all that’s a little too sappy for today’s fiction, isn’t it? Like, yay, the couples stay together, and everyone lives happily ever after. That’s so 1990. Today it’s about realism, about pain and sadness and not being able to be happy because, humans basically suck. That’s what we all have in common.”  
Sam said, “So, change it up. Give something to humans to show them love matters. Effort matters. Protecting the planet and helping each other through, matters. Show you’re a good dad. Show you’re proud.”  
“You’re saying I haven’t been a good dad?”  
Sam said, “Well, um…”  
Chuck lost his interested look. His face clouded with anger. “I suppose you think you could do better? You would have a better way to handle seven and a half billion people being total selfish jerks 24/7?”  
Dean held up his hand. “Chuck. Can I ask you question? Without you getting all _I’ll-lift-my-finger-and-turn-you-to-ash?_ ”  
Chuck sighed, became Chuck again. “I don’t turn people to ash---okay, I do, but not without good reason!”  
Dean said, “What do you really want? Like, in your average God-day, what’s your ideal scenario?”  
“Huh. That’s possibly the first time anyone has posed that question to me. Hmm. Well, lately, it’s been a lot of thinking up new creatures, trying to find the two of you and keeping all the praying at bay. That’s sort of typical lately.”  
Dean continued. “And, is that fun for you? Like, is there any real enjoyment in any of that?”  
Tilting his head, Chuck considered. “Do I enjoy it? Well. I guess I don’t. Or, I sort of do, sometimes, because, the four rows of teeth I put into that last nest of vamps were pretty cool, actually.”  
Dean nodded. “What if you could change it up? What would you want to be doing, in an ideal scenario?”  
“If I weren’t here, playing out my favorite story with my favorite set of Sam and Dean, you mean?”  
Dean nodded. “Yeah, if you weren’t doing that.”  
“Well, I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”  
Sam pointed to the screen, still showing humanity at its best. “You’re a brilliant creator, Chuck. A magnificent writer, painter, sculptor. This destruction? It’s like a criminal waste of your time. Maybe, and I’m just throwing this out there, maybe you could go start another universe. Learn from what we’ve fucked up and make something better.”  
Chuck nodded. Started pacing again. “I could. I mean, there’s vast realms of real estate out there in the cosmos. I could use lessons learned, do something creative. I’d take away the invention of the engine, for sure. And slavery? Gotta get rid of that insane human improvisation for sure.”  
Sam nods. “That sounds amazing.”  
Chuck seemed to be lost in thought.  
Sam looked at Dean, who gave him just the tiniest eyebrow lift.  
Chuck snapped back to them and said, “But, what about Jack?”  
Dean said, “What about him?”  
“I can’t leave him here. Can’t leave him alive. He’s too powerful. He offsets my being able to do what I want. You see that, right? And yet, I can’t kill him, either. I kill him, I kill myself. So, the only way to get rid of Jack is to get rid of this world. You see the bind I’m in!”  
Sam said, “You could trust us to look after him. Make sure he doesn’t do anything destructive or, you know, against your wishes.”  
Chuck shook his head. “No, no. Because you’re gonna die in a few decades and Jack will live on. Who knows what the life expectancy is of a Nephilim? They weren’t in my plans. I didn’t think the angels would ever stoop so low as to have sex with humans, much less make children! There’s another out there right now - Jesse. But, his father was a pretty low-level angel and he has no idea how powerful he is. He doesn’t bother me because he’s too afraid to use his powers, mostly. But, Jack. No, Jack is more powerful than I could have imagined, and he’s against me.” He turned to them, and smiled. “So, I think the destruction of this earth, and the killing of one of you, is the best way to go, the best way to make sure I’m not under threat. You see that, right?”  
Dean said, “Jack’s only against you, because you’re against us. If you leave us be, he’ll stand down.”  
“You can’t guarantee that, though. I mean, Jack’s his own man. Kid. Whatever. It’s weird that he’s only, like, three isn’t it?”  
Sam said, “What if we could guarantee he won’t come against you?”  
“How could you possibly do that?”  
Dean said, “Because I know Jack. His human side understands what a vow is. If he promised, he’d stick to it.”  
“Please, Dean. All it would take is someone he loves under threat and his ‘promise’ would evaporate like the steam on a cup of coffee.”  
And then Jack and Cas stood there next to Chuck.  
Chuck startled, and took a step back. “Well, there you are.”  
Jack nodded. “Yes.”  
Sam and Dean looked equal parts angry and scared. Dean said, “Damn it, Cas. You had one job.”  
Jack stepped closer to Chuck. “Hello, Grandfather.”  
Chuck said, “I suppose that’s technically true.”  
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t supposed to come. But…”  
“You were listening.”  
“Yes. And, I don’t want to be your enemy. I truly don’t. You’re the only real family I have left. And, Sam and Dean have taught me the value of family. That you do anything you can for family. If you leave them alone, I promise not to hurt you, ever.”  
Chuck nodded. “Family is Sam and Dean’s thing.”  
“Yes.”  
Nobody spoke for long moments.  
Chuck finally raised his hands and said, “You all present me with more problems than you’re worth. I mean that genuinely. All I wanted was an exciting end to this story, this world. Sam kills Dean, and then spends the rest of his life trying to find ways to kill me. It’s classic! It’s gripping. And, by the way, it’s futile, because, hello, God here. But, then, the wrinkle, the perfect plot twist, a surprise villain with the deus ex machina coup! Here’s something that can kill me! AHA! So, what’s my move, hmm? Do I give up? Let the villains win? No. Can’t do that. The hero’s journey means I have to triumph! So, how do I do that, I ask myself? How do I keep Jack in check, get my Cain and Able classic ending, and still end up with what I wanted most – to be the one in control and the one who gets to destroy the thing that has plagued him all along, which, in this case, is earth?”  
Cas said, “You could leave.”  
Chuck shook his head in confusion. “What? How’s that a decent ending?”  
“I believe it’s called literary realism. The father walks out in the middle of the story. It happens in much of literature.”  
Chuck considers. “Hmm. Yes, but I’ve used that one before. I was gone for a long time, creating other worlds, but still, this one, this first one, always calls me back. I think I have to give it a more permanent ending, this time around.”  
Sam’s voice rose with sudden temper. “You aren’t just the author of some fucking story! You created us. You’re our father. You owe us more than leaving, you owe us more than trying to destroy us. You should believe in us! You should fight for us! You’re quitting because it got too hard for you? What the hell, Chuck?! You want to go down as the biggest cosmic quitter in the universe? The one who killed all his kids instead of trying to help them be better? Really? Is that what this whole world-building experiment was about? Work on something for who knows how many millienia and then just explode it?”  
Dean said, “Nice example for your grandson, there, Chuck.”  
Chuck seemed nonplussed by Sam’s assertions. “But, I---I’m not quitting. I’m creating an ending!”  
Dean said, “You aren’t creating shit. You’re running away. You’re the villain in this story, Chuck. Not the hero. A hero finds a way, against all odds. He fights when he’s got nothing left but grit and will and heart. You set us up, you gave us great tools to get through this shit show world. Maybe, if you want to be a hero, you’ll help us do that, instead of shutting it all down and running away.”  
Cas said, “Running away doesn’t sound like a heroic ending.”  
They all murmured, “Nope,” “Sure doesn’t,” “Hugely disappointing, actually.”  
They all waited.  
Chuck said, “Fine. Fine! Say I leave this world alone, let Jack live. What's the price? Nothing good comes in a great story without a terrible cost.”  
He looked at all of them. Then at Sam. “I’ll take Sam.”  
Dean said, “What?!”  
“I won’t make you kill him, Dean. I see the error in that. You haven’t done it in 40 years, you’re not going to do it now. Not even to save the world. So, okay. I’ll give you that. But, I’m not going to give you everything. I’ll let you keep Jack, and he will promise to never harm me. I’ll give him the same promise. You can keep Castiel.” He looked at Castiel, “I know about your pending trip to the Empty. I’ll rescind that and you can go to heaven. See? I can be generous. I’ll even take away the monsters. They don’t really interest me that much anymore, anyway. I’ll keep them all consigned to hell, leave a few in purgatory just to keep it interesting. I’ll do all that, but there has to be a cost. And, Sam is the cost.”  
Dean laughed his I’m-not-scared-of-you-but-I-really-am laugh. “No. That’s not even---”  
Sam said, “Do you promise?”  
Dean looked over. “Sam, shut up.”  
Sam stood. “You’ll do all that? You’ll leave Jack alone? You’ll keep Cas out of the empty? You’ll take away the monsters and Dean won’t have to ever do another hunt again?”  
Chuck and Sam stared at each other, while the others in the room protested. They both ignored them.  
Chuck said, “I’ll do all that.”  
Sam said, “And where will you take me?”  
“Does it matter?”  
“I’d like to know, yes.”  
Chuck held up his hand, silenced the loud protests coming from Castiel, Jack and, most passionately, Dean, by freezing them where they stood. “Where would you like to go, Sam? If you had the choice?”  
Sam looked off in the middle distance, thought about it. “If I could choose, I’d stay here. I’d figure out how to live without hunting, help Dean get a job, find a school for Jack, watch Cas re-build heaven. I think I’d become a teacher or something. Mythology and Ancient Lore.” His gaze sharpened and returned to Chuck. He even smiled slightly. “But, I’m guessing that’s not what you have in mind?”  
Chuck shook his head, returned the smile. “It’s not what I’d been imagining, no.”  
“Then, I suppose I’d have to trust you choose. Because I don’t really think you’re the monster you’ve been pretending to be these past couple years. I remember, Chuck. I remember what I think of as the _real_ Chuck. He was helpful, and compassionate. Sure, he had a hard sense of fairness and justice, but I understood that. He was frustrated, but affectionate despite that frustration. He reminded me a lot of John Winchester, actually.”  
Chuck said, “You guys really drove me crazy the last few years.”  
Sam nodded. “I know. We weren’t trying to. Just, there were so many things to try and fix, you know? So many challenges, with Lucifer and Michael and all that mess.”  
Chuck said, “You handled most of that pretty well, actually.”  
Sam shrugged. “It required a lot of improvising in the moment. We could’ve done better, I know.”  
Chuck sighed. “You could have.”  
Sam said, “But then. You made the most _amazing_ thing happen. In case I never mentioned it, thank you. For giving our mom back. That was. Well, that was pretty magical, while it lasted. I never thought I’d have that. It was the kindest thing anybody ever did for us. So, just. Thank you so much, Chuck.”  
Chuck seemed flustered. “Well. Yeah. It was no trouble, really.”  
“You’ve done amazing things, Chuck. Even though we’ve been on rough footing the last little while, you, even just the idea of you, has always given me comfort. Given me hope. No matter how fucked up my life was, I kind of relied on you to be out there, looking out for me. Looking out for my dad and Dean.”  
Chuck nodded, lost in thought.  
Sam cleared his throat. “So, anyway. I’ll go wherever you decide. Because a deal’s a deal, right?”  
Chuck smiled. “Sam Winchester, honorable to a fault.”  
“Isn’t that how you wanted us to be? ‘Thou shalt not lie?’”  
“Yeah, don’t get me started on humans' failure where those commandments are concerned.”  
“They’re a good outline.”  
“They were meant as a thoughtful roadmap, really.”  
“We’d be a lot better off if more of us followed them, even after all this time.” Sam nodded, smiled. “So, are we agreed?”  
Chuck nodded. “We’re agreed.”  
They shook hands and the others came out of their frozen state to the sight of Sam and God shaking hands.

Dean said, “What did you do? Sammy? What’s happening?”  
Sam took Dean by the shoulders. “Dean. It’s going to be okay.” Softer, just to Dean, he said, “Do you trust me?”  
The way he asked the question made Dean pause. _Sam was trying to tell him something_. He couldn't suss it out what with the panic and the fury he was basking in at the moment. He said, “That’s a dumb ass question.”  
Sam smiled. “Don’t worry, okay?”  
Dean said, “Saying that only makes me worry. What’s going on?”  
Chuck came up next to them, put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Sam and I have a deal. No take backs, no more negotiating. Him, for all of you and the world.”  
Dean closed his eyes. “Sam…”  
Sam leaned in, wrapped Dean up in a hug. He whispered, “It’ll be okay. Trust me.”  
Dean held on. _What was Sam trying to tell him?_  
Jack looked at everyone. “I don’t understand. Just, God takes Sam and all of this ends? That’s supposed to be a good deal?”  
Chuck said, “First, I’ll have your word, as my grandson and as a Winchester, that you will never come against me – never try to harm me in any way.”  
Jack said, “And you’ll give me the same promise?”  
Chuck rolled his eyes. “Yes. I promise.”  
Jack said, “I promise, too. But, I don’t want you taking Sam.”  
Chuck rubbed his hands together. “That, you don’t get a vote on, grandson or not.”  
Castiel said, “Where are you taking him?”  
“Sam left that up to me. So, I don’t have to tell you.”  
Sam looked at all of them, his family, and said, “Listen. No more monsters. No more getting ripped from limb to limb, or watching anyone else get ripped. No more consoling family members because they don’t understand why evil ruined their lives and took their loved ones. No more waking up wondering if we’re going to get possessed or if we’ll have to lose someone we love to a demon or a vampire.” He looked at Chuck. “I trust Chuck to do the right thing, the just thing. He’ll put me somewhere I can rest, because he understands all the things we’ve tried to do to help this planet be a more peaceful, beautiful place. Just like he intended from the beginning.”  
Dean looked, considered, lost some of his panic. “We’re gonna re-set and trust Chuck to be a good dad, huh? Chuck, you’re gonna take care of Sammy? You’ll make sure he’s got what he needs after all the shit he’s been through? All the suffering he’s done at the hands of Lucifer, and Michael, your kids, by the way, so, you’re welcome. Not to mention Metatron, and Azazel and ---”  
Chuck held up his hand. “I get it, it’s a long list.”  
Castiel said, “Plus, he protected your only grandson when, well, multitudes wanted to kill him the moment he was born.”  
“Yeah, yeah, I remember.”  
Dean gave Chuck a long look. “I’m trusting you, Chuck. With my most important person. With my family. You wouldn’t do anything to hurt him, right?”  
“I don’t want to hurt, Sam, Dean.”  
Jack said, “He’s was there for me, when you were nowhere and Lucifer was hunting me. I would be willing to go in his place. Please, Grandfather. Sam belongs here, with his family.”  
Castiel said, “I’d certainly go in your place, as well, Sam. Chuck, if you want to reconsider?”  
Chuck seemed to be getting annoyed with all of them. “I get it. Everybody loves Sam. Okay! Sam, you ready?”  
Sam smiled. He gave Dean a long look, seemed to be trying to reassure him.  
Dean tried really hard to trust what he thought Sam was doing. “Sam. You better…okay. Okay. See you on the other side, brother.”  
“You damn well, will.” He turned to Chuck. “I’m ready. I trust you to do the right thing, Chuck. Let’s go.”  
To his family, Sam said, “I love you all.”  
He lifted his hand to wave but before he could do it properly, he and Chuck disappeared.

The room fell quiet. Already, the hollowness of Sam’s absence was heavy on the air. None of them knew what to say.  
Dean fought down the despair that wanted to grip him. He had to do something. He couldn’t think---  
He turned to Jack. “Can you find us a monster?”  
Jack seemed too sad to answer for a moment. His eyes were full of tears. “What?”  
Dean’s throat wanted to close up. He wanted to scream with rage at the loss of Sam, but he’d told Sam he’d trust him. So, he needed a distraction. “Chuck said he’d take away all the monsters. I want to get a sense of the timeline we’re dealing with here. So, can you find me a monster?”  
Castiel said, “Perhaps now is not the time to---”  
Dean looked at him, the fear and freak out just barely staying at bay. “Cas.”  
Cas backed down. “Jack, let’s see if we can find some monsters.”  
They disappeared.  
Dean sat down in the chair Sam occupied just a minute before. He watched the images of the best of humanity on the wall. “You better be right about this, Sammy.”

A week passed.  
They couldn’t find a monster or demon anywhere. Dean called the hunters he knew and none of them could understand what happened. One night, they were all on hunts, and the creatures just…vanished. Actually disintegrated right in front of them.  
Jack Riley out in Oklahoma told him the same thing he heard from the rest: “They’re gone, Dean. Literally disappeared. We’ll keep looking, but for now, I’m going home and sleep for a week.”  
Jody and Donna said the same. Apocalypse World Bobby, the same. He’d landed in Sioux Falls, taken over the real Bobby’s destroyed plot of land, and started to rebuild the scrap business.  
Dean got tired of Jack and Cas looking at him like he was two minutes away from a breakdown. He sent them to check on heaven, see if they could learn anything new there. See if people were getting let back in, and if angels had a plan to re-build their numbers.  
From Sam he heard nothing.  
He didn’t accept him being gone for good, of course. He was sure Sam had been trying to tell him something important those last couple minutes before he disappeared with Chuck. Dean thought maybe Sam’s plan to appeal to the father in Chuck had something to do with it.  
He cleaned the guns and sharpened the knives and washed Baby. He washed Sam’s laundry and changed his sheets. He went grocery shopping and bought Sam’s favorite vegetables and two thick steaks.  
He expected Sam to return, god damnit.  
Another week passed, and cracks began to appear in Dean’s resolve to trust Sam.  
He started sitting in Sam’s room at night. Went through all the beer he’d bought. Went out, bought some more.  
At the start of week three, Dean went for a three day drive. He drove through some of the towns where he and Sam saved people and hunted things in the past.  
Nothing settled him.  
But, he didn’t grieve.

Because Sam said to trust him.

On a rainy Tuesday night, Dean came back from a run into town for beer and could feel the emptiness of the bunker all around him as he walked down the steps into the map room. He thought about doing this for another 40 years, and didn’t think he could hold out against the looming despair much longer.  
_Wow, you only lasted three weeks, Winchester? That’s pretty pathetic. Sam said to trust him. So, DO THAT._  
He went to the kitchen and put the beer in the fridge.  
He heard the door clang in the other room.  
Someone entered.  
He heard footsteps on the iron stairs and listened.  
Fuck him, he knew that sound.  
He ran to the room and standing there, big and tall and skinny as ever, was Sam.  
Dean smiled.  
Sam said, “Turns out, God’s a softie.”  
Dean pulled him into his arms, just held on and let himself breathe.  
 _Sam is here. Sam is HERE._

The End.

Fade to Black.


End file.
